


Curing This Crafted Abyss

by FlameRainbow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, BAMF Stiles, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Torture, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameRainbow/pseuds/FlameRainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you know what it takes to break a person, Derek? Do you know what it takes to break me? They didn't take me for information, or even to send some stupid goddamn message.  It wasn't because of any supernatural bullshit. It was for fun, that’s all it was. And do you know what that means. It means that I couldn't do anything to make them stop, I couldn't give them anything. That’s not even the worst part. Do you know what’s the worst part is” Derek just shakes his head and his fingers twitch with the need to pull Stiles to him.</p><p> </p><p>“The worst part, the absolute worst part, was that they were human.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missing and Discovered

**Author's Note:**

> Hola Amigos, welcome to my attempt at a fan fiction. Good luck on reading this. 
> 
> Ignore anything that happens in season three, imagine the alpha pack happened and stuff and Peter is somewhere. I might explain Peters absence later. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this.

 

Stiles would love to say that somebody noticed, that anybody noticed, but he’d be lying. Nobody noticed if he got skinnier or if he had dark circles under his eyes, or if he burnt through his Adderall prescription like there was no tomorrow. Just as long as he kept talking, and kept smiling even though he felt like he was falling apart. Nobody noticed until Stiles had been gone a week. By then it was too late.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles’ room was clean, his Jeep was parked outside. There was no sign of anything going wrong, there was also no sign of Stiles.

 

Derek could feel the packs agitation and it was making him pace faster than was humanly possible. They were all gathered in the Stilinski household, the sheriff was out looking for his son and the pack had run out of places to look for him. Scott was visibly shaking in the corner while Allison and Isaac tried to calm him and Erica and Lydia were sat squeezed together on the couch and visibly trying not to lose their shit. Derek could feel and see Boyd’s anger as he stood in the corner of the room and Derek could almost hear Stiles’ voice in his head saying ‘he learnt that looming from you CreeperWolf’. It hurt.

Danny and Jackson were sat closely together on the floor as they tried to control their breathing together. Derek could feel his control loosening and the wolf coming to the surface, he tried to calm down but he was surrounded by Stiles’ scent, he was drowning in it. Every he looked he just saw more of him but never Stiles himself. He couldn’t hear his chatter or see his fidgeting in the corner of his eye.  He found himself abruptly missing everything he used to find annoying.

Scott suddenly jumped off of the round and ran straight to Derek. “We’re not doing anything Derek. Stiles is out there somewhere and we don’t know what’s happened to him. He could be hurt. Derek. He could be dead and we’re still not doing anything.” Derek eyes burned and glowed red as he roared at him. Scott jumped back and cowered against the wall while the rest of the packs backs straightened.

“Do you think I don’t know that,” Derek voice cracked in the middle of the sentence and he looked down briefly before directing his burning gaze at Scott, “Do you think it’s not killing me knowing that Stiles could be dead right now. I know Scott. But what you’re doing isn’t helping anybody. We all need to calm down and think about this.”

Scott looked outraged, “We don’t have time to think about this, we don’t even know how long Stiles has been missing!” Everybody looked to the ground at that and Derek felt guilt fill his blood like white-hot flames. 

 

Lydia stood up from the couch and walked towards Derek, “Derek is right, we need to think about this logically. Arguing isn’t going to help us find Stiles. So when was the last time anyone saw him?”

Everybody looked at each other before answering.

“Graduation “Jackson shrugged and looked at Allison.

“Same here, I was planning to go over to his house tomorrow. I just…” Scott put his arm around her and she leaned into him. Scott answered next “I saw him like a week and a half ago. He was acting weird, I dunno. He just seemed different.”

Isaac jerked his head up, “He was fine when I slept over at his. Actually, It was a couple of days after graduation.  He was fine, I think. He said Boyd was coming to his the day after. What was he like when you saw him?” Boyd was still slightly outside the circle the pack had made and Derek could feel he was still fuming.

“He was… he was a bit weird. He was moving more than usual. We were looking at the different majors I could take at college. He was twitchy…”  
“Stiles, Danny, Lydia and I had dinner the day after graduation. I think that’s the last time any of us saw him.” All of them nodded at Erica and Derek suddenly found the gazes of each of his pack members on him. Derek glowered at all of them then growled out “About a week ago, I saw him on the street. He smelt more like medicine than usual. We came here and ate dinner.” Allison’s brow furrowed while he was speaking and she looked at him questioningly.

“What do you mean he smelt more like medicine” Scott nudged her with his shoulder and then looked at Derek in the same way.

“Stiles always smells like medicine. It’s his Adderall, he takes more than he supposed to sometime but nothing major. Right?”

 

Derek could feel a growl forming in his chest. That day Derek had smelt Stiles before he had seen him. His scent as intoxicating as it normally was to him but it was… wrong. The thick medicine smell that sometimes made his nose twitch was overpowering. “He smelt like a drug store Scott”. Everybody was silent at that.

At that time the whole pack was thinking the same thing.

 

Where was Stiles?

 

* * *

 

 

The pack searched everywhere, they tracked Stiles’ scent but the trail had gone cold. Derek had done everything he could, he’d searched everything. The pack thought they were going crazy before and now that Stiles had been missing for two weeks they were all angry.

Sheriff Stilinski was hardly ever home, he was always at the station or out looking for Stiles. Derek could smell the grief and frustration wafting off him and every once in a while he smelt whiskey.

Lydia researched everything she could but didn’t find anything supernatural that could make someone disappear without a trace. If Stiles had been kidnapped, the kidnappers would have left a trail. Supernatural creatures always had a distinct scent. The pack started to consider that Stiles may have been taken by someone human.

Nobody wanted to consider whether or not Stiles had just left.

 

* * *

 

 

After a month the scent of grief started to permeate the air around the pack. Derek found himself running away from the scent. The one that had followed him around most of his life. He still heard Stiles’ advice sometimes. Every so often he would forget that Stiles was gone and he would call him or text before he remembered. Once he even got to the Stilinski household and when he smelt Stiles’ faded scent he shifted and ran and ran until he couldn’t anymore and then he just howled long and hard and agonising.  He shifted back into human form and found himself in an unknown town, with unknown scents and for the first time in a long time he cried. And not for the first time there was no one there to comfort him.

 

* * *

 

 

After two months the Sheriff showed Scott some statistics, statistics that showed life and death, the chance that Stiles was still alive.

Scott showed up at the pack meeting and collapsed on the floor sobbing and everyone stared in shock at him. Lydia was the first one to speak. “Did they find him?” When Scott didn’t answer Isaac whimpered while the rest of the pack took a step back or hung their shoulders. Lydia looked a little hysterical. “Scott! I said did they find him. Is he… Is he dead?” Scott’s head snapped up at that and he started shaking.

“No, they still haven’t found anything. He’s still gone” The pack let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. “But the Sheriff… Stiles’ dad, he umm. He said that they’re dropping the investigation. That the chances of him still being…” He choked up on the last sentence and Allison had to catch him when he was about to slump down again, “the chances of him still being. Alive. Are too small. So, they’re stopping the investigation. It’s over for them. I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do.”

 

* * *

 

 

The pack had to go to college, so they went. Some of them stayed. Derek, Erica and Scott. They slowly accepted that Stiles was gone, they never accepted he was dead but they knew he was gone. Now and again someone would mention him and the pack would smell of overpowering grief again and Derek would have to get away.

Scott would stay with the Sheriff more and more and the Sheriff would work as much as he could.

Nothing was the same, but they learnt how to deal with it.

 

* * *

 

 

It had been three and a half years. The whole pack was at the renovated Hale house and it was a rare occasion. They were celebrating Boyd finally finishing college and Derek could feel the others getting twitchy about the fact that they would be finishing soon. Nobody mentioned the little hole in the party, the fact that Stiles had helped most of them pick their colleges made it even bigger.

They were all trying to stifle they’re laughter when Erica unveiled her attempt at a cake.

“You’re all laughing now, but guess who will be the one laughing when you have to eat it.” Erica was smirking and Jackson was slowly backing away whilst shaking his head. Then they heard a loud sound from the forest. Then another. A gunshot.

 

Isaac informed the humans of the basic defend or attack plan while the rest of the pack got ready.

“We heard to gunshot’s far off in the woods, Danny I’ll call you and you can track my cell phone. Allison and Lydia get your stuff together, we don’t know what to expect” Isaac rattled off then stood by Boyd on the front porch.

Derek tossed Lydia the car keys, “Take the jeep and you’re driving. Danny will be giving you direction.” He nodded at Danny then all the wolves took off.

 

 

What they saw when they got there was unexpected.

 

 

There was a man in leather with guns and knives fighting off two other men who smelled like sulphur. There was something familiar about the man fighting. Derek signalled at the wolves to lay off, it looked like the man was taking care of this. That’s when he heard the man muttering under his breath and his voice was eerily familiar.

“Motherfucking demons, motherfucking broken salt rifle goddammit. Jesus shit, oh my god, what the hell is wrong with the world.”  Derek watched as this man kicked what was apparently a demon in the chest and used the momentum to propel himself onto a tall branch and then dropped himself onto the other demons shoulders. He cracked that one’s neck ad jumped down from him, grabbing a dropped gun on the way. He still hadn’t noticed the wolves that were hiding behind some trees. The first demon seemed to have recovered from the blow and the man looked up and smirked.

 

That’s when the pack stopped breathing. He was older, his hair was longer, he was more bulked up and scarred but it was him. It was Stiles. The pack was literally frozen as they watched Stiles fight.

The demon ran to Stiles but didn’t notice him pulling out a knife from the inside of his leather jacket. He started throwing them with startling accuracy. Two were embedded in his heart and one in his head.  He was so fast that if Derek wasn’t a werewolf he wouldn’t have seen Stiles throw them. The demon stopped and slowly pulled the knife out of his fore head while he snarled at Stiles.

“Oh my god, that’s actually disgusting. Are you being serious? Why won’t you just die?” As soon as the demon took one step forward Derek saw Stiles roll his eyes and pull a gun from the back of his jeans and shoot the demon six times in the chest. When the demon just startled back Stiles made an exasperated noise and looked heavenward.

 

When the jeep came close enough for human ears to hear Stiles’ head snapped around and he saw the whole pack. His face turned stormy.

“Ok, bitches. Now I am really pissed,” He took another gun out an ankle holster, “First you make me come to Beacon hills and then you draw attention. Goddammit. Now. I’m. Pissed. The. Fuck. Off.” He punctuated each word with a gunshot. He took out what looked like an intricately carved knife from his belt and threw it right into the demons forehead. Again. This time the demon dropped and stiles did a little fist pump before he heard a crack and looked down to see the demon from before healing its neck. Stiles looked heavenward again. “Does somebody up there have something against me, because seriously.”

He shot the demon once with the rifle before planting a foot on its chest. “Oh my god, you should have just died. I’m sending straight back to the deepest pits of hell you little shit and I’m going to make it as painful as possible.” He started chanting in something that sounded like strange Latin. The words rolled off his tongue easily and he kept his foot firm as the demon convulsed, the demon even started screaming but he kept his foot firm and smiled down at it.

 

When everything was silent and the pack was looking at this version of Stiles in shock, Stiles took his boot off of the demons chest and smiled a strangely fake smile.

 

 

“What’s up guys? Did you enjoy the show?” Jackson’s knees gave out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is back and nobody knows what's going on.

Derek had absolutely no idea what was going on. Neither did the whole pack if the way they were staring at Stiles was anything to go by. Lydia had caught Jackson before he could hit the ground and now he is quite literally gaping at Stiles. Derek knows the feeling.

Stiles is just standing there, fake smile plastered across his face while nine pairs of eyes stare at him in absolute shock. He raises an eyebrow at all of them when no one speaks for a full minute. This seems to unfreeze Scott and he hears him make a choking sound.  Stiles seems to get sick of the silence and turns back around and kneels next to the demon with the knives stuck in various parts of its body. Derek can smell the thick smell of sulphur leaking out of the body and he wrinkles his nose in disgust. When Stiles just proceeds in pulling the knives he hears Scott make another choking noise.

Stiles stands up and stretches his arms above his head, Derek doesn’t miss the way he winces, before he speaks, “The weighted silence is really getting old guys. Like, does Scott have something stuck in his throat cause keeps choking  and dude I’m not gonna lie, that noise in just plain nasty.”

Scott’s eyes widen and he takes a step towards Stiles before he stops, “Stiles. How… what… Is that really you?” Stiles rolls his eyes and sweeps his hands down his body.

“In the flesh buddy”

 

Surprisingly it’s Erica who’s the first to tackle Stiles. He sees Stiles blink once and then sputter when he gets an armful of blonde. Derek was expecting him to fall under her weight but he just catches her in his arms and holds her awkwardly while she hugs his neck. Derek takes a step forward then stops, Stiles has been gone for years and a part of Derek can’t actually believe he’s back. This Stiles smells different, he doubts any of the pack can tell but Derek’s the alpha.

The Stiles that went missing didn’t smell so _weighted_. This one’s scent is thick in the air, thick with layered emotions that Derek can’t decipher. Part of him doesn’t want to because the scent smells dangerous and sad and a million different things.

Derek can see Stiles trying to shake off Erica but just ends up flailing his arms a bit while she’s still attached to him, Stiles almost trips and that makes the air rush out of Derek. It’s good to know some things never change. Scott choking noises have only gotten worse and he’s slowly making his way to where Stiles’ eyes are wide and his mouth is full of blonde hair. Erica sees him approaching and jumps off Stiles only to plaster herself against his side. When Scott first touches Stiles the pack an invisible dam seems to break and everybody except Derek runs forward to tackle Stiles and he hears Stiles mutter a quiet “Oh shit” before the full force of the pack hits him and he goes down like a rock. He hears a high pitched squeak which he’s pretty sure is all Stiles and everybody starts talking on top of each other.

 

“How are you even?”

“-Did you go?”

“-Cant believe it”

“Stiles-”

“Missed you so mu-”

 

Derek lets his eyes bleed to red and roars out a quick “Everybody quiet!”

The whole pack stops speaking at once and the silence is stifling and then a quiet groan comes from the middle of the pile and Stiles groans “You guys, I think you’re crushing my internal organs. Yep, there goes my kidney.” Everybody moves gracefully off of him and Derek steps forward to help him up. Stiles looks at Derek’s offered hand and ignores it in favour of getting himself up and brushing off his clothes.  He blinks at Stiles in shock and slowly lowers his hand. Stiles’ still fake smile drops from his face and he suddenly looks five years older. His expression is scarily blank and where years ago Derek could see the small cracks in Stiles’ masks this Stiles has none. He takes the intricate knife out of his jeans and slowly wiped the blood off of it with his shirt.

When everybody goes without speaking for another minute Derek has had enough. He steps forward and puts his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, ignoring the way he freezes up. “Stiles, what happened?”

Stiles is nodding before he’s finished speaking and Derek looks on in confusion as he shakes off the shoulder and starts walking backwards. “It’s been what two, three years since I last saw you guys?”

Boyd’s jaw clenches and he slowly says, “Three years and seven months.”

Stiles nods along “Seems like a lot longer. You guys look different. Older. Happier. You look good.” He’s looking at Derek when he says it and a small pained smile ghosts across his face, it’s the first one that doesn’t look faked.

Derek hears someone behind him growling and it’s Jackson who speaks up, “Cut the bullshit Stilinski and just tell us where you’ve been.” Derek doesn’t miss the way Stiles freezes up at the name Stilinski.

Stiles looks down at his watch and Derek sees the way his surprised face falls on. “Is that the time. I thought it was earlier. It’s just so late-”

Derek glares at him. “Stiles”

“I mean I have got to get going-”

“Stiles”

“I am on a schedule and I got places to be, people to see”

“Stiles!”

“Ok, down wolfy. No need to get all fangs and claws on me. I come in peace.”

“Stiles. You get that you can’t just leave like that, you know that we need to talk” Stiles lets out a breath and seems to deflate.

”I’m staying at the motel down Gregson Street, room number 14. I hate to say this but you need to come alone. It might not be safe for anyone else.”

 

Scott whines and seems to choke again before he splutters out “But Stiles. What do you mean dangerous, why can’t we come.”

“Scott. Stop. It’s dangerous for you, that rooms lined with mountain ash and you don’t wanna know what. Someone might even be following me, Derek’s the alpha which, surprise surprise, means hes stronger than you and has better instincts. If some sneaky sons of bitches try to get the jump on him he might have a chance to survive. For all I know the person that attacks him might not be human. I could have demons on my ass. I don’t have time to chat I should really go. Um, bye.”  Stiles turns and jogs out of eyesight and everybody is to shocked to stop him.

Twenty seconds after Derek can’t sense Stiles anymore everybody starts shouting over each other and Derek has had it. “House, Now. Pack meeting.” He hears Jackson quietly murmur ‘yeah no shit’ and spins on his heel to growl at him. Jackson raises his arms and steps back and Derek loses it. He shifts and runs home.

 

* * *

 

 

The pack meeting is chaos.

Everybody shouts over each other and nobody even tries to calm down. Some claws are out and eyes are glowing and all through it Derek stands in the corner staring at the lopsided cake they left behind when they heard the gunshots.

Nobody answers when Isaac asks “Where did Stiles go in the first place?”  
Nobody answers when Danny asks “Why is he back now. After so long. And why does it seem like he’s a hunter? And why the fuck were there demons?!”

 

Nobody answers because nobody knows.

 

* * *

 

 

The pack agreed that only Derek should go to Stiles’ motel until they find out more about why he’s here.  That’s why Derek’s standing outside a grimy motel room trying to distinguish Stiles’ scent underneath the mixture of hundreds of other people, thousands of different smells. For some reason he can’t smell or hear anything from inside the room and it’s making him nervous. He feels like pacing, or dragging his hands through his hair but he stays still and makes his expression carefully blank. After taking a few deep breaths Derek knocks three times on the door and waits for an answer.

When the door opens Derek freezes.

He could have frozen because of a number of things.

The absolute _stench_ of sex that Derek can smell from inside of the room.

The man who clears his throat with a dopey smile on his face who squeezes between Derek and the doorframe to get out of the room.

The stench of sex _on the man_.

The way Stiles looks, rumpled and almost relaxed and beautiful and…

 

But that’s not why he stops. He stops because of the scars, the scars upon scars, littering Stiles’ body. They don’t look like they were made of claws and not even all of them look like cuts. Some of them look like deep burns that were branded on his skin. There are thick and thin scars, and circular scars and they are everywhere. His wrists have scars which wrap right around both of them, the scar tissue even paler than his normal skin. 

Around his bicep there’s strange tattoos that cover and wind around his arm and run across his chest. They are deep startling black even though they look at least a year old, and the patterns capture Derek’s attention and he feels as if he can’t look away.

Stiles almost relaxed posture freezes up immediately when he notices Derek staring at his chest. He turns around to grab a shirt from the bed and Derek makes a small whining noise when he sees his back. Amazingly, disgustingly, it’s worse than his front.

Stiles’ jaw is tight when he finally acknowledges Derek, his battered body hidden from view. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting you until at least tomorrow morning”

Derek has had enough of this Stiles hiding things and changing the subject and so he slowly stalks towards him while his eyes burn red.  Instead of backing away like Derek though he would do, Stiles stays in exactly the same place and doesn’t move an inch, not even when Derek’s shoes are touching his bare feet. Derek almost can’t breathe through the rage that’s coursing through him. Just the thought of how Stiles got those scars, the ones that look like burns and cuts not claws. Never claws. It looks like something human. It looks like something Derek would kill to get rid of, to be able to smooth away all the blemishes on Stiles’ skin.

“How?”

Stiles knows exactly what he talking about and doesn’t hesitate to answer and lie. “Comes with the job, you hunt for a couple of years and you’re bound to get a couple of claws in you. I mean I’m sure if you were-”

Derek doesn’t hear Stiles’ heart skip but he doesn’t need to. “ _Stop lying to me”_

Stiles’ whole body stiffens and he looks straight into Derek’s eyes with an expression that seems to plead ‘stop asking’. But Derek can see through all of his bullshit and he needs to know. He needs to. So he shakes his head and Stiles groans and steps away from Derek while dragging a hand through his hair.

“Derek, just leave it alone. Just do this one thing for me. Just leave it” His voice had more emotion than Derek’s been able to read since he first saw him fighting and Derek _aches_ because he asking Derek stop but he can’t.

Stiles looks up and huffs out a bitter laugh before he starts pacing around the room. “Of course you won’t just leave it alone and of course you’re going to look like that, and of-fucking-course the demons are going to lead me here on the one time the whole pack is here. This is bullshit. Pure bullshit.”

Derek gently grasps Stiles’ shoulders and tries to plead with his eyes, he sees Stiles shudder once before he seems to collapse in on himself and then on to the bed. He’s cradling his head in his hands when he starts speaking in a small voice. “You guys really don’t know where I went do you. I just disappeared.” Stiles’ eyes are shining when he looks up and Derek nods.

“Just tell me where you went Stiles. Just tell me how you got those scars.”

Stiles is shaking his head before Derek finishes speaking and Derek can see his fingers twitching and his toes tapping and Derek’s just glad to see some of Stiles’ habits but when he hears Stiles’ breath shake and his amber eyes shining wetly those thoughts fly out of the window and Derek feels his heart start beating faster.

“I don’t thi-, I really don’t think I can. I can’t. I can’t do it. Don’t make me. Don’t. Just I can’t.” Stiles voice breaks and his breathing speeds up and Derek doesn’t know what to do so he lays a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and squeezes. All of a sudden Stiles tenses and Derek can _feel_ his defences shoot up.

“We should get back to business shouldn’t we big guy. I know you don’t want an unknown hunter on your territory for too long so I’ll try and get out of your hair in no time.”

“What are you talking about? What unknown hunter?”

Stiles looks at him like he’s the most precious idiotic child in the whole universe. “Well me silly” He even swats Derek on the arm and Derek feels a years old scowl slip onto his face easily.

“You’re not an unknown hunter. You’re Stiles.”

“And you’re Derek. So glad we’ve established what we already know.”

Derek growls in frustration while Stiles smirks.  “Where have you been Stiles? You disappear three and half years ago and nobody knows how or where you went. Your trail was cold and everybody was a mess, your father was a mess,” Stiles looks down to his feet at that, “We were lost. For all we knew you were dead Stiles or you hurt badly and we couldn’t get to you, we couldn’t save you. I was, I was lost.” Stiles looks up at him with eyes that say too many things, so many things that Derek can’t decipher, “Then you just show up killing demons. And you’re completely different yet you’re the same Stiles I knew. But you talk and act like a hunter and you’re so different that I just want to scream and you won’t tell me anything and you don’t smell the same. And I come here and it absolutely _stinks_ of sex and there’s a random man in your room and you have scars. So many scars and you still won’t tell me anything and then you talk about leaving when we have no idea what happened to you and I can’t do it. Where have you been?”

Stiles chuckles and chokes out, “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one go.”

“Cut the bullshit Stiles and just tell me”

 

And in one moment, the moment between heartbeats, Stiles looks up at him and it’s his eyes again. Stiles looks at him and Derek knows. He knows why Stiles’ eyes say so much and why his scent is so heavy. It’s because of how much he’s seen and lived and it almost looks like a little part of Stiles died along the way. Like someone chipped at him, scratched and clawed and dug their nails into his heart and found everything that mattered, everything Stiles held dear and broke it. Broke him. And Derek can’t breathe because he can feel it, feel his pain and his sadness and the million different ways that he’s broken and Derek thinks he understands, even if it’s just a bit, he thinks he understands how Stiles feels.

How it feels to be broken, how it feels for your heart to be glass and to feel it shatter inside of you. For the little shards of glass to drag and burn every time you breathe, to feel it under your skin every time you move. To know that you’re alive because the pain reminds you every second you shouldn’t be. Derek knows, and so does Stiles.

 

Derek steps closer until his forehead is touching Stiles’ and he breathes out a gentle “Stiles”

And Stiles looks up with those _eyes_ and he just says “They were human Derek. They weren’t… they… they were human.”

 

There’s one tear, just one and Derek’s heart breaks once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took so long to update but i had problems with the hospital. I hope you enjoy the words i have conjured up from many years of education surrounded by idiots who tried to stop my learning by being idiotic.  
> I may have to go hospital soon but if i don't expect an update. I'll be writing in my spare time.  
> This story is all just words. And words are just letters. And what are letters. Some shapes that some person made up. And humans are just made of cells and i can't handle this it's to late at night.  
> I live in England by the way so it's like two thirty in the goddamn morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles remembers what happened all that time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, i'll explain the long not updating fiasco on the end notes. But right now i hope, you really enjoy this!!!

 

 

Stiles revels in the feel of Derek leaning against him, his warm breath on his face and he feels like sobbing. He feels like breaking down and crying his heart out and saying the words that haunt him and scream at him but he would never do that, not now anyway. He would never show that to anybody else, sobbing is reserved for nights alone in a motel room when he knows there’s no one. When he realises he’s alone.

And that’s how it should fucking stay. So Stiles finds the strength to pull away from the intoxicating heat of Derek and he would have walked away. Packed his bags and never come back to this town that somehow still feels like home. He would’ve gone if it wasn't for Derek's hand brushing over his hand and then grasping it and Stiles can’t. Not with Derek. He can’t carry on lying.

 

“Even if I tell you what happened I can’t promise that I’ll stay.” Stiles steeled his heart and ignored the look on Derek’s face when he said that. “I’ll probably leave because I can’t stay. Do you understand me Derek, i can’t” Stiles needs Derek to understand, he needs him to. So when Derek asks “Why?” he squeezes his hand and grabs Derek's shoulder and then his neck, and then his face.

“I cannot stay in this town.” Stiles tries to convey through his eyes what he’s saying, Derek was always the best at reading him anyway. He knows he’s got it when Derek’s eyes widen and he tries to speak but Stiles stops him because it’s not safe.

“It’s not safe to say it. Don’t ask me. Let’s just say that those demons that brought me here are part of a bigger plan and you are most definitely not getting involved because you do not need to. So don’t tell me and don’t ask me.” He tried to put as much steel in his voice until he was sure his eyes were burning with it. Some of his instincts were screaming at him that it wasn’t a good idea to order an Alpha to do anything but the bigger part of him knew it was Derek. That’s all that mattered.

Derek sighed under his breath and took a step closer to Stiles, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you still haven’t told me. Who did it?”

 

Stiles wanted to fucking punch something. How many times had he heard that in his life now? When he would take his shirt off or his sleeves rolled up and peoples eyes would go round and jaws would drop and eventually the question would come up and logically he knew that they weren't thinking about the words they were saying but stiles would still feel a shiver race through him every single damn time. It... put so simply, was hours of torture and screaming and please god no.

 

Stiles pulled away then, he couldn't do this while touching someone, it felt wrong. He ignored the start of headache in his temple, and his sore knee, and scar in the middle of his back that stung no matter what he did. He walked to his nightstand and straightened his dagger, just for something to do. Derek seemed to understand that he needed time to think and to be able to get the words out in the right way. The warmth of Derek’s touch on his hand lingered so he took a deep breath and try to close himself off from the memories flashing behind his eyelids.

 

“I don’t remember when they took me. I just woke up and I was there... and so were they. I didn’t realise at first, I didn't know.”

 

Stiles feels his heart speed up and his palms start sweating and his breathing was speeding up and no. He was stronger than this; he proved that he was stronger than this. But his mind was screaming and the headache that was in his temple seemed to have spread all through his body until everywhere ached and when he closed his eyes the world changed. 

 

* * *

 

 

_A long screeching sound in the distance was bugging him. Stiles woke up slowly but surely and there seemed to be a thick suffocating fog in his mind stopping him from waking up quicker but he didn't mind it was just that sound was getting on his nerves. He slowly became aware of an ache in his shoulders and upper arms and that’s what finally convinced him to force his eyes open. When he did he slammed them back down._

_That wasn't his bedroom ceiling, Stiles was pretty sure that was no ones bedroom ceiling and if it was that person is really unfortunate. He really hoped there wasn't another fight and he ended up in one of Derek’s really questionable living spaces. He braced himself and opened his eyes._

_The ceiling was disgusting, really, and when he looked down he realised that of course the floor was too. He tried to ignore the quickly rising panic inside of him and focused on the fact the fact that his hands were bound behind him. The screeching sound was still going in the background, it was rhythmic and loud and frightening.  When he looked around to the source of the noise he had to try really freakin’ hard to keep his panic at a reasonable level. There was a man sitting in a chair sharpening a knife. He was just a normal looking dude, short dirty blonde hair which didn't really match his skin tone, a bit of a crooked nose and big eyes. The man was sitting on an old looking fold up chair that was a really vile shade of green, like really who made that design decision. Stiles looked back up to the man when the screeching noise stopped. The man was looking straight at him, knife in hand and Stiles was trying hard not to shake. He’d been taken a lot of times but somehow this felt different. His instincts were screaming at him that this was different._

_“Hello, Stiles.” The man’s voice was really very underwhelming, Stiles figured it should have been more frightening taking into account that he was sharpening a knife. “You comfortable?”_

_No Stiles was not fucking comfortable. Whatever was holding his hands together was frickin’ chafing and something in the background was dripping, but Stiles wasn't the type to just come out and say it like that. “Well, I gotta admit, it’s a bit underwhelming. I was expecting five stars. I didn't even get a mint on my rat infested floor.”_

_The man chuckled and the fact that he just looked like a normal, light-hearted man was really creeping Stiles out. Stiles sighed, “Look man, I’ve been through this a thousand times and I’m kinda tired so if you would so kindly tell me why I’m currently sitting on this dirty ass floor we can hurry this up. And can you please tell me your name because seriously I don’t want to keep calling you man in my head.”_

_A door creaked and another man walked in silently. He just stared at Stiles for a long minute and then walked back out. Stiles shuddered and suddenly felt cold all over._

_The man carried on speaking as if there was no interruption, “My name’s Lucas” He said it so dismissively that Stiles didn't doubt it was his real name. “What do you mean this happens all the time?”_

_Stiles would groan if he didn't think it would get him killed. So instead he tipped his head back so it hit the wall behind him and lowered his eyes to look at Lucas. “So what monster of the week are you?” He didn't have a vampiry presence and he most definitely was not a werewolf. Stiles had dealt with enough of them to know when he was speaking to one. The dude who walked in felt freaky, but not supernatural freaky. Stiles opened his mouth to speak but Lucas spoke first, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I think it’s about time we got to the fun part, don’t you?”_

_Stiles only noticed the small metal table when Lucas started dragging it over to him. It was filled with instruments of all different sizes, some were blunt and some were very, very sharp. Sharp enough that Stiles started to worry. Stiles tried to protest and shimmy away as Lucas came closer and closer but the thing tying his hands was attached to something and he could hardly shift a couple of centimetres to the side without it straining his shoulders._

_Lucas’ footsteps echoed in the warehouse and Stiles wondered if this was the end for him, because those footsteps sounded like it. The closer and louder they got the more Stiles’ mind screamed at him to run hard and fast but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything and he hoped that if this was the end that it was fast._

_Stiles was right about it being the end. After what Lucas did to him he felt dead, every instinct that was screaming at him a before had quietened and he had gone numb._

_But Stiles couldn’t be more wrong about it being fast. It was slow and he couldn’t describe the pain in words. Every time he thought it had peaked Lucas pulled out something that would hurt impossibly more. Even when he had stopped cutting and burning and ruining Stiles still felt it. There were no words for it. None at all._

* * *

_It carried on like that for a while and soon Stiles realised that Lucas didn’t know shit about the supernatural. Stiles had tried begging and pleading. He offered all the information he knew but all he would get in return were these stares that almost made him doubt his own sanity. It seemed like Lucas was doing this for shits and giggles and as soon as Stiles realised that he threw up all over the floor. Lucas had been furious and he had gotten a deep burn on with a heated pipe on his back for that. It felt like it had touched his spine and Stiles genuinely had no idea how he was still alive. With all the blood he’d lost and the brands on his skin he felt like there was nothing of himself left._

_The other man never touched him though. He would come in and stare at him, at times bring water or food but he never hurt him._

_It felt like years before Stiles zoned out. One day it became too much and he just…switched off. He still felt the pain and he still knew where he was but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Stiles wondered if this was death. He didn’t think death was your heart stopping, he’d met supernatural creatures that had no heart and they were still alive. But to Stiles, this was death. It sure felt like it._

* * *

_The first time Stiles zoned back in was when everything around him changed. One second he was dimly aware of the same warehouse he’d been looking at for months and then he was in a completely different room. It had a carpet and a bed and lamp. But that barely stirred Stiles as the torture just kept coming. Lucas would make comments like, “You’re no fun when you’re not screaming. Why won’t you scream for me?” and Stiles hoped with all the little soul he had left that Lucas would kill him. It was the only thing he wanted, the only thing he needed. He realised it wasn’t a matter of want anymore. It was need. Pure and simple. Stiles needed to die._

* * *

_Sometimes Lucas would bring people who would join in. Stranger’s faces would loom over him and Stiles was so broken that he couldn’t stop himself from comparing them to his friends. Some of them would have Scott’s eyes or Erica’s hair or Danny’s nose. And Stiles would laugh, long and hard and hysterically until the people would start asking what was wrong with him, would start hurting so he would stop but he couldn’t. So he just laughed louder and they would hit harder and burn deeper and sometimes when the burns went so deep he could feel his bones searing he couldn’t help but quietly think if this was what Peter felt like when the Hale house was burning around him. If it was, he couldn’t blame him for going mad. Stiles felt like he was going crazy from it._

_At some point a stranger came in who felt different. And not in a good way. The supernatural warning bells in his brain were ringing a riot and Stiles felt a spark of life in him. When the man’s eyes turned black and his smile stretched wide over his face was when Stiles spoke for the first time in months._

_“Oh shit”_

_“Oh shit is right boy”_

* * *

Derek didn’t know what to do. One second Stiles’ face went scarily blank than he had moved backwards so fast his back hit the wall with a sharp smack. Derek walked forward to try and shake him out of his trance but then Stiles started to laugh and Derek’s heart ached with it. It sounded hysterical yes, but the undertone of it was pain. A lot of it.

After a minute the shock wore off and Derek stepped forward and grasped Stiles’ shoulders but no matter how hard he shook him Stiles wouldn’t stop. He kept going and going and Derek had the urge to cover his ears.

After ten minutes of trying not to cover his ears with the sound of Stiles laughing, the noise turned to a sob and Stiles’ eyes were present again and they were so, so sad but also so furious. He pushed Derek back with a force that was bordering on inhuman. 

It was like there was a fire brewing behind Stiles’ eyes and his presence was suddenly so much bigger than it was a second ago. It filled the room and the air until Derek felt like he was breathing in Stiles.

Stiles stepped close to Derek and he wanted to step back because still after all these years he was still afraid of fire. It didn’t matter what kind. “Do you know what it takes to break a person, Derek? Do you know what it takes to break me? They didn't take me for information, or even to send some stupid goddamn message. It wasn't because of any supernatural bullshit. It was for fun, that’s all it was. And do you know what that means. It means that I couldn't do anything to make them stop, I couldn't give them anything. That’s not even the worst part. Do you know what’s the worst part is” Derek just shakes his head and his fingers twitch with the need to pull Stiles to him.

 

“The worst part, the absolute worst part, was that they were human.”

 

Derek had no idea what to say to that. His mind was blank accept for the part of his brain screaming Stiles, Stiles, Stiles, Stiles. In all the years that Stiles had been missing he had never entertained the thought that someone with no affiliation to the supernatural world had taken him. Sometimes at night when he was alone he thought that maybe Stiles had left, he was smart enough not to leave a trail. But he’d never seriously thought about this. That it was just a human, a sick twisted human.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually wrote this two days ago and then i basically burnt my whole arm off. So i have some giant ass burn on my arm and ugh, life. Basically, i picked the wrong time to start writing this fanfic. Although the tragedy that is my life gave me a couple of ideas i have seriously had a really horrible time right now. Please no flaming tomatoes. I will try my absolute hardest to write more of this story because it isn't over yet, i promise you. I hope you enjoyed it. If you have any ideas you can review and leave them. Or if you want anything to feature in the story. If i can make it happen, it will.


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